


Like a Rose

by INFTINSPIRIT97



Category: K-pop, ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Angst and Romance, Assassination Attempt(s), Best Friends, Childhood Friends, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Idiots in Love, Kidnapping, M/M, Misunderstandings, Politics, Social Justice, The Son twins are the only ones with braincells, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, YoungDo is life, YoungDo is love, associate! Geonhak, but not really, but not too much, rich lawyer! Youngjo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:16:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29644263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INFTINSPIRIT97/pseuds/INFTINSPIRIT97
Summary: Geonhak has been by Youngjo's side almost throughout his whole life. He was his childhood friend, training buddy, secrets keeper, co-worker, best friend... and a lot of other titles, including one he's never asked for: his human shield.“Don’t you ever think that I will be grateful for you putting your life on line for mine. If you end up dead, I will never forgive you, Kim Geonhak."
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn
Comments: 14
Kudos: 21





	1. Spring Blossom

The first rays of sunshine peaks shyly through the small gap between the golden-lined, Burgundy blinds. Its light sneaks slowly into the dark room, drawing a thin line from the ground, up to the bed, then to the face of its occupant. Its warmth lovingly kisses his skin good morning, stirring him awake from a dreamless sleep.

His beautiful brown eyes open slightly, first dazed and confused. Then, the fog slowly clears itself from his mind, allowing the sound of chirping birds from outside the window to reach his ears, automatically stretching his lips into a smile. 

Mornings have been cloudy and grey for a while, and waking up has been a dreadful feat. Fortunately, Winter has gone by, and Spring is already here, bringing back sunshine, chirping birds, and beautiful colors into Kim Youngjo’s life. 

It’s the first day of Spring, so he wakes up with a purpose, ready to face yet another day. Being a morning person by nature, he does not linger in bed, kicking his covers away and standing up with a jump. He stretches his arms up, his mouth ungracefully opening in a big, loud yawn. He takes his time washing up, before heading down, still in his casual wear. 

Youngjo descends the luxurious, marble staircase, humming to a pop song he’s heard last night on the car and has been stuck in his head ever since. He skips to the huge backyard, heading straight to a certain corner of it. The chilly breeze of the early morning hits him right in the face, and the earthy scent of the Chrysanthemums invades his nostrils. He welcomes it with a big smile, and a bigger heart. 

“Good morning, mom,” he fondly whispers to the beautiful, soft pink flowers, his hand carefully caressing them, one by one. 

This was his mother’s special spot, as she’s spend hours every day tending to the flowers, making sure that they’re in perfect condition, and would bloom in season with no complications. As a kid, helping her gardening was his favorite activity, and she patiently taught him everything she knew. The small blossom paradise meant a lot to her, and more for him. It’s his favorite place in the big, old mansion, and in the whole world as well.

He gets his gardening tools, and decides it’s time to cut some more of the blooming chrysanthemums. Youngjo was super excited when he learned how to increase their Winter hardiness, as he hated how dead the garden looked during the cold season. He’s failed a couple of times, but soon enough, he got the gist of it. Ever since, his special corner always had flowers, all year around. 

His babies have survived for the whole frosty season, and now it’s about time he gets them ready for their next bloom. He’ll miss the mums in Spring, but fortunately, he’ll have at least two other varieties blooming in the meantime. Speaking of which, after cutting five beautiful blooms, he turns his attention to the other bushes. He’s been too busy lately, that he’s been taking less care of them, and he feels real bad about it. 

To his utter surprise, Youngjo finds a single red rose, hidden behind a cluster of foliage. Its petals are starting to open, and the sight never fails to mesmerize him. Also, he’s never had such an early bloomer, and it only boosts his mood more. Carefully, he cuts the red rose- as he always does with every first bloom-, and decides it’s about time he goes back inside. 

On his way to the kitchen, he stops by the sideboard mahogany table in the main hall, and takes the full vase sitting atop of it along with him. It’s a beautiful, white ceramic vase, with the outline of a red rose delicately hand-painted on it in black ink. And currently, it’s full of week-old chrysanthemums, that he’s cut himself, of course. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Kang,” he cheerfully chirps as soon as he steps in the wide kitchen. The delicious smell of freshly baked croissants makes his stomach grumble in hunger. He still needs to put the florets in the vase first, before thinking of breakfast. 

Said woman is busy squeezing fresh orange juice, but turns around to greet him back, nevertheless, her warm smile mirroring his. 

“You’re awake early, I see,” she comments, glad. She then adds, “It’s been a while.” 

Ever since he was a kid, Youngjo had the habit of waking up earlier than anyone else. Recently, however, he’d sleep late because of work, and waking up later than he’s used to, by consequence. 

“I slept early, yesterday,” he tells her, while taking the already withering mums out of the porcelain vase, and replacing the water. Technically, he’s been dragged to bed, and forced to sleep by a very grumpy person, because _‘you’re becoming a workaholic, Youngjo, and this can wait for a few hours’._ He omits that part to avoid being teased by the woman. 

“Is dad still here?” He asks, while meticulously cutting the stems and the lower leaves of each flower. 

Mrs. Kang shakes her head, “He was out about an hour ago, said something about an important meeting.”

Youngjo nods in understanding. He knows what kind of responsibilities his father has taken upon himself. Instead of disappointment, he only feels constant concern for the man. 

“What about the rest?” 

“The boys are still not back from their grandparents’, and you know that Madam Yoon never wakes up this early,” she tells him, and they share a knowing, joking look.

He finishes by arranging the fresh mums in a bouquet, and then places them inside of the vase. He loves this process, and the ending result even more. His moment of lovingly staring at the bouquet is interrupted by a small reminder. 

Youngjo looks at the wall clock and frowns, “Don’t tell me Geonhak is still asleep as well?” 

Mrs. Kang chuckles, “Of course not. He went running earlier, and he should be back soon.” 

Just as she was speaking, the kitchen’s back door opens, and a very sweaty Kim Geonhak comes in. Just as mrs. Kang has said, he’s wearing his running clothes and shoes, and his breath is coming out quickly in white puffs of air. 

“Speaking of the Devil,” Youngjo says, crossing his arms over his chest, displeased. 

For a fleeting second, Geonhak looks surprised to see him there at this hour, but then, he smiles sheepishly, “You were talking about me?”

Youngjo’s glare intensifies, “You went running without me?” He demands, half in disbelief, half betrayed. Before he’s turned into a busy adult, they used to go running together in the early mornings, or late afternoons. It’s been a while, though.

“You have a long day ahead of you today, you better save your energy,” the other states, as a matter of fact. To further distract him, he walks closer, full attention on the blooms, “The pink mums look-” he takes a deep sniff, “-and smell as great as usual.”

Youngjo sighs in irritation, “Do I need to remind you that our days have the exact same length? And it’s Allouise pink, not just pink, how many times do I need to tell you this?” 

He gets the usual eye-roll as a reply for his remark about the flower’s name. Geonhak only gets these things wrong to irritate him. In reality, his knowledge about gardening is almost as good as his, as he’s spent a significant time watching Youngjo taking care of his small garden, or simply listening to him ranting about it. 

“I know, but you have to do all the thinking, not me,” Geonhak shrugs giving him another innocent smile. 

Youngjo wants to sulk for longer, but he then remembers his surprise, and the excitement kills any last bits of grumpiness. 

“You won’t believe what I found!” he exclaims, and Geonhak is already raising a curious eyebrow.

He runs to get the rose from where he’s put it earlier on the counter, then turns around, holding it with two hands, his arms extended in Geonhak’s direction, “TADA!” 

The other’s eyes widen in surprise, “Already? Isn’t it too early?” 

Youngjo nods enthusiastically, “It is! And it’s the first bloom of the year, which makes it the more special!” He stays in the same stance, waiting for Geonhak to accept the rose, but he doesn’t, seemingly hesitant to do so. 

“Aren’t you going to take it? The tradition still holds for this one as well,” Youngjo crosses the remaining distance between them, and forcefully pushes the rose in his hand. 

Youngjo does this every year. The first blooming red rose never goes into the vase, instead, he gives it to Geonhak. The latter is always hesitant to accept it, but Youngjo knows he loves the gesture. And even though he has the total freedom to do whatever with them, Geonhak makes sure they live the longest in the slender, tall vase in his room. Youngjo pretends that he doesn’t know that he still uses the very first red rose he’s ever gifted him as a bookmark. 

Geonhak mutters a ‘thank you’ as he brings the rose closer to his face, scenting it, gaze fond and smile soft. It’s too much of an endearing sight, and Youngjo can’t resist it, really. He tears his eyes away, nevertheless, and loudly clears his throat. 

“I’m starving, let’s eat,” he juts his shin in the direction of the already set table.

Geonhak blinks, looking conflicted, “I still need to wash up and get ready though.”

The pout barely makes its way to Youngjo’s lips before the other gives in with a sigh, “I’ll go wash my hands and join you.”

Just as much as Youngjo can’t resist those gentle smiles, Geonhak can’t resist his sulking pouts. And they both know it, and use it very well. It’s a game they are both good at. 

-

The morning meetings drag longer than they usually do, and Youngjo is already exhausted and stressed. 

“You have a lunch meeting with Mr. Han in thirty minutes,” Geonhak reminds him, but his mind is too fried to curse, so he just groans. 

“Can’t we send Keonhee instead?” 

Geonhak shakes his head sternly, “His schedule is too packed as it is, and Mr. Han wants to meet you in person.” 

Youngjo groans again but stands up nevertheless, letting the other put his coat over his shoulders, as they leave the office together. 

After graduating college, Youngjo worked as an associate for different, big law firms, but he never stayed more than a few months at the same place. And every time he changes jobs, Geonhak would magically find an opening in the same firm as him. They were inseparable, like that. In the end, Youngjo got sick of moving around, and dragging the other with him, and decided to start his own firm. He had the money for it, and knew people with exceptional skills that were more than willing to come work with, and for him. 

Geonhak, in particular, was offered to become a managing partner, but he refused to. He keeps insisting that he’d be more useful as Youngjo’s associate, because he needs a trustworthy one, and that no one can fill that position better than Geonhak.

Youngjo has only accepted because he knows how to exploit that opportunity to let Geonhak shine on his own. And truly speaking, his small firm wouldn’t’ve lasted a day without Geonhak. 

-

The restaurant they go to for the meeting is a fancy, Japanese styled one, with private rooms and exquisite decor. Obviously, this new client wants to impress Youngjo, but the latter is hardly impressed by these kind of gestures. He’s lived his whole life in luxury, after all.

He greets the man with a polite bow, and expresses his gratitude for the invite. The man looks puzzled when Geonhak sits down next to Youngjo, and that’s already leaving a bad impression on him. It’s like these rich businessmen always assume that Geonhak is his bodyguard or whatever, and expect him to just keep standing by the side like a status for the whole time. 

Youngjo wants to blame it on the way the guy is always a step behind him, looking ready to attack whoever as much as comes near him -and he’s more than capable of doing so. But Geonhak’s intimidating aura has proven to be useful more than once, and has saved them from a lot of unwanted encounters. So, Youngjo has stopped complaining about it (plus, complaining about it didn’t get him anywhere). 

For the first part of the meal, Mr. Han barely mentions the purpose of the meeting. He just keeps talking about random things, throwing a few reminders here and there about how rich he is. It’s like he’s passively threatening Youngjo into accepting to take on his case, but Youngjo is already used to this kind of talk. 

At last, the man starts talking about business, what they’re here for. Another tax evasion case, and Youngjo almost loses his composer and leaves. He hates these kind of cases with a passion. He chose to become a lawyer so that he can protect the weak, and wronged. This man is obviously neither of those. 

Mr. Han, of course, tries to sugarcoat the situation, trying to sound as innocent as possible. And it’s creepy how all businessman use the exact same lexicon to twist the situation, making whoever listens to them believe they have no ill intentions. What’s weirder, is that how in such settings, Geonhak turns into one of them, asking questions using their own language. However, Youngjo does not find this change disgusting, not in the least. It’s purely interesting, how shy, awkward Geonhak disappears, and is suddenly replaced by this confident, cruel Geonhak. 

Two questions in and the man is already taken aback by him. He does not lose his composure, though, hiding his stress with well trained smiles, but it’s obvious that Geonhak got him walking on a tight rope. Youngjo just watches the exchange from the side, entertained. He doesn’t need to study his friend’s body language to know that they won’t be accepting this case.

It’s already the fifth client in a row that they’re going to reject. If it wasn’t for the inconvenience it’s bringing upon his work, he’d be genuinely amazed by how many predators his small law firm has been attracting, just because of a press article. 

Throughout his life, Kim Youngjo has gotten a lot of attention for his connections. His mother’s side owned half the buildings down-town, and his father’s side had all kind of military figures. In other words, both his family sides were filthy rich, and he happens to be the only heir, as both his parents were only children. However, the reactions never gets past surprised faces, baffled sounds, and non-sense questions.

“Is your shampoo gold-scented, or diamond-scented,” Keonhee has once asked him, on their first week of friendship. He’s asked more idiotic questions in the weeks, and years following, but Youngjo is better off not remembering any of them. He only remembers how in tears Geonhak would be every single time from laughing too much. 

Anyways, the initial amazement disappears eventually as people get to know him more. His natural friendliness and kindness make them forget about it in record time. What’s getting him all this unwanted attention, however, is his father becoming the Minister of Interior Affairs. He didn’t have trouble with it at first, as he knew how to avoid the media, and his father was really secretive about his family. Still, the press always has its ways, and an old picture of him and his father on the day of his college graduation was suddenly on every news site. 

And that’s when Youngjo registered the difference between having money, and having power. People may value money, but they seem to value power more. And Kim Youngjo’s family now have both. 

-

“I don’t want to see any middle aged man for the next two days, at least,” Youngjo complains, hastily throwing his blazer on one of the couches, and proceeding to follow it. He doesn’t know how he’s went through the afternoon, rejecting two more suspicious cases from middle aged clients. Now that he’s home, he wants nothing more than a shower and an uninterrupted sleep for a day or two. Geonhak picks the blazer after him, silently folds it, then properly lays it on the armrest. 

“Then I guess I should just go back to my room.” 

Youngjo’s head whips in an alarming speed to the hallway, where his father appears, already changed in a more comfortable wear than his usual perfectly pressed suits. 

“Dad!” Youngjo stands up, almost throwing himself at his father, but remembers to act his age, and stops halfway through the room. “You’re home!” 

His father smiles tiredly, “I thought I’d join you for dinner, today,” he briefly pats his son’s shoulder, then turns to Geonhak, his smile -albeit small- never flattering, “How have you been? I hope he’s not giving you a hard time,” he jokingly adds, gesturing to Youngjo.

The latter feigns a hurt expression, but Geonhak chuckles and continues with the tease, “It’s better than middle school.”

Youngjo gasps loudly this time, while his father snorts, “I don’t think anything he’d do now could top that.” 

Okay, he has nothing to say to that. First, his father seems to be in a good mood, which is such a rare -very very rare- occurrence, so he’d rather enjoy this moment to its fullest and let them tease him. Second, what they said is so painfully true that he can’t defend himself. 

After all, middle school was on another different level. Youngjo was really popular back then. If asked, he’d say that he had everything worth getting the attention for. He was a pretty boy, even at thirteen, he was top of his class, and his family was very rich. But none of that mattered, because in the eyes of the whole school, Kim Youngjo was ‘the peace maker’. That nickname alone would make Geonhak scoff and curse, even fifteen years later. 

Being inseparable from Youngjo, he’s witnessed enough to confirm with great confidence that Youngjo was ‘the trouble maker’. It’s not that he was a bad boy, no, the contrary, he was good, too good, and that was the essence of the problem. He couldn’t stand bullies, couldn’t stand seeing someone being treated badly. He wanted to protect the weak, at all costs. Geonhak really admired that quality about him, appreciated it even, but what he really didn’t appreciate, was getting beaten up because of it. 

None of them knew how to fight, at the time. Youngjo was mainly a pretty boy, and Geonhak a scrawny, introverted kid. To put it more clearly, they weren’t the most intimidating duo you’d stumble upon in a school. On the other hand, the bullies were usually bigger, stronger kids, who didn’t really care about Youngjo’s background or getting expelled from school. 

So, each time Youngjo stood for another kid, things would escalate really quick from a lecture about morals, to a fist fight, and that’s when Geonhak would jump in to show his solidarity. He never let Youngjo get beaten up all alone.

“Why is that he starts the fights, and you’re the one who gets beaten up the most,” Mr. Kim has questioned once, after giving his son the usual, long scolding, “next time, just let him take full responsibility of his own stupidity.” 

Still, Geonhak never listened. By the end of middle school, he’s learned more self-defense positions than he’s ever thought existed, and Youngjo has learned how to better tend to their injuries, and hide bruises with makeup. 

-

“So,” Mr. Kim starts, midway through dinner, “How’s work? What were you complaining about earlier?” 

Youngjo’s shoulders slump at the mention of work, releasing a deep sigh. Thankfully, Geonhak answers in his stead, “Ever since that article was out, a lot of clients are coming to us, hoping to take advantage of our connections,” he sums it in less words than Youngjo though possible. 

“It’s slowing us down, but nothing we can’t handle,” he reassures his father, who nods understandingly, before asking, “What about Mr. Lee’s case? How’s that going?”

Youngjo’s eyes lighten at the mention of that certain case, an odd mixture of excitement and frustration, “He’s still denying everything -of course- but we have a new lead that could get us somewhere.” 

Mr. Kim pauses, giving his son an analyzing stare, as if he’s contemplating the situation in his head. It visibly gets Youngjo nervous, but he refuses to avert his eyes away. 

“Are you sure you can go through with it?” Mr. Kim finally asks. Rather than belittling Youngjo’s competency, it’s more of a concerned question. 

Geonhak understands Mr. Kim’s concern. He himself was against Youngjo accepting this particular case from the very first day. It was dangerous, but the risks were never an important criteria for Youngjo when taking a decision, and when that woman came to his office, crying and begging, telling her story between broken sobs, and asking for his help because no one’s wanted to take her side, Geonhak accepted his defeat before even trying to fight Youngjo. 

It’s not that Geonhak was heartless. When he’s heard the story, how the Assembly member has sexually assaulted not only the woman, but her ten years old daughter as well, he felt the blood in his veins boil. Still, he always tries to be rational, driven by reason instead of emotions, and it didn’t require a lot of analyzing to know that they were opening the gates of hell for themselves and the firm. There was a reason that even the prosecution refused to take on the case. It was a war bigger than them. They were young attorneys with a few years of experience, against a famous politician with a whole team of cunning attorneys. 

Losing the lawsuit is the most optimistic outcome Geonhak can think of. He shuts his brain down when it starts imagining the worst case scenarios. He can’t let it get to that point. That’s his duty. 

“I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m going to do my best,” Youngjo affirms, eyes lit with a determined fire. His passion for protecting the weak is unparalleled. It still amazes Geonhak, even after seeing it for countless of times already. 

Mr. Kim purses his lips in a thin line, a frown appearing on his forehead. “Just be careful. You can never know what those people have up their sleeves.” 

The warning is clear in his voice, and they both know that this ain’t a kids play. Even with his connections, Youngjo is against an equally powerful opponent.

“Don’t worry, we’re being extra careful.” Geonhak reassures Mr. Kim again. The latter nods at him, a gesture showing that he has his whole faith in him, to keep Youngjo in check, and safe. Rather than burdening him, those responsibilities bring Geonhak a sense of gratitude and honor. 

“Look at you, three workaholic men having dinner together,” Madam Yoon interjects, half joking, half annoyed. They almost forgot that she was eating with them. “And you, Youngjo,” she points her chopsticks accusingly at him, “Weren’t you the one who set the ‘no work talk’ during meals? What happened to you?” 

Said guy sighs in defeat, “I think I take after my father after all.”

He meant it as a joke, but he’s quick to regret it, once he notices the way his father stiffens a little, before shaking his head with a sorrowful smile. 

Geonhak had the chance to know Youngjo’s mother for a few months, before she passed away. When Mr. Kim brought him to the enormous mansion, she’s already been fighting her illness for years. Geonhak still vividly remembers their first meeting, in the back patio. It was a mid-summer afternoon, and Mrs. Kim was on a wheelchair, reading a book to the ten-year old Youngjo sitting by her side. 

His first thoughts when he saw them, where mostly about how alike, and how pretty they both were. And when they welcomed him with almost identical, wide smiles, he couldn’t help but mirror it. It was his first smile in weeks. 

Albeit her frailty, Mrs. Kim was all too tender, all too caring, all too serene. And Youngjo took after her. From his soft features, to his soft heart and carefree personality, it was all her.

On the other hand, Mr. Kim, was nothing like them. Maybe because of his nature of work, or maybe that’s how he’s always been, but he is a very uptight man. He rarely showcases any emotions on his face, especially in front of strangers, who can only describe him as cold as ice. 

It took years of living with them to know that Mr. Kim is a very kind person in heart. He might not express it through words or physical contact, but he loves his son so much, and even cares about Geonhak. It just requires a little bit of extra attention to notice the minuscule changes in his demeanor to know his current mood. And Geonhak has mastered that skill a long time ago. 

He’s enjoyed watching Mr. Kim awkwardly handling his too affectionate son- especially when Youngjo was a teenager-, and slowly figuring out how to accept and even reciprocate that affection. Both father and son, albeit too different, eventually found a way to communicate and understand each other. And thankfully, after long years of solitude, Mr. Kim has found someone that could understand him just as much.

“Well, you both are handsome, but completely hopeless men,” Madam Yoon jokes, when she notices the effect of Youngjo’s unintentional slip. And she succeeds at instantly lightning the mood, as her husband’s sad expression turns into an entertained smile. Youngjo beams at her, a silent ‘thank you’, and she nods reassuringly in return. 

The exchange between the two warms Geonhak’s heart. He was almost surprised at how fast Youngjo has accepted the news of his father’s second marriage, and how he’s easily welcomed his step-mom and her sons in their family. But it’s Youngjo, so he shouldn’t have been surprised at all. He’s a naturally good person, and his only goal in life is to make people around him happy. So, if his father has found a woman that he loves enough to marry and start a new chapter with, he’ll never stand against it. 

Thankfully, Madam Yoon has turned out to be a very nice lady. She too was still haunted by the ghosts of her past, never thinking that she’d find love ever again. Her small family of three was still suffering from the aftermath of a broken marriage, and oddly enough, it fit so well with Mr. Kim’s family, forming the weirdest combination. 

During meals where everyone is present, with Mr. Kim sitting at the head of the table, Youngjo and Goenhak respectively on his right, and Madam Yoon on his left, with her two menaces of sons sitting across Geonhak, the latter would find himself observing their dynamic, and the weird connections they were able to build between each other. 

He swears that during moments like those, that Youngjo’s smiles are his sincerest, and happiest ones. It fills Geonhak’s heart with gratitude, for the fates to surround him by good people who love him as much as he loves them, and to bring him as much joy as he’s brought upon them. 

Because for Geonhak, Kim Youngjo deserves all the love and happiness in this world, and more. 

-

“Settlement my ass!” Youngjo slammed his briefcase against the desk with a loud bang. “Who do they fucking think they are?” 

He restlessly paces through the room, mind running in all directions. He doesn’t think he can calm down, not after how the preliminary hearing has went. Youngjo has evidence, enough of it to make the man rot in jail for the rest of his despicable life. And the defendant’s defense are well aware of it, so they shamelessly asked for a cheap settlement. Not that Youngjo would accept any kind of settlement for this case. 

“I won’t back down until I win this lawsuit! Even if they prove him innocent, I will keep appealing, over and over, until I see that trash of a human being behind the bars! I will win, even if it costs me everything!” He promises, the fire inside of him burning any rationality he still has.

“Youngjo,” a heavy hand on his shoulder stops him mid-trance. When he blinks the bleariness away, and meets Geonhak’s eyes, a wave of calmness washes over his anger. It grounds him, bringing him back to his senses. He takes the glass of water the other offers him and downs it in one big gulp. 

He then nods, silently thanking Geonhak and reassuring him that he’s calmed down. 

“That one lawyer was creepy, though,” Keonhee still comments, a wave of goosebumps running through his body. 

Youngjo drily snorts, even though he highly agrees with his friend. Something about the woman didn’t sit right with them. Appearance wise, she was a beauty, and didn’t look older than forty. Her suit screamed luxury, only big designer names, a sign she’s been in the field for long enough, unless she was originally really wealthy. But who’s Youngjo to judge her, his suit probably cost more than what the whole firm has made for the last two months. 

Anyways, her eyes held a sense of malice, and every word she said sounded venomous. Keonhee would definitely get nightmares because of her. 

“Let’s just wrap up for today,” Youngjo tells him, knowing very well how exhausting their day was, “You can go home now, if you want to.”

The sun has just set, but poor guy already had a long day, and deserves to be dismissed early -as early as past working hours could get, anyways.

Keonhee looks at him with shining eyes, as if he’s just gave him the happiest news of the week. He’s still the same hyper kid he was when Youngjo first met him in high school. The only thing that has changed is that he’s grown taller -as if he wasn’t taller than everyone as a teenager- and he has a degree that allows him to stand for people in court.

“Really?” He asks, eyes still shining in disbelief, but he’s already collecting his files in a messy stack, quickly pushing them inside a binder, as if scared that Youngjo’s would change his mind. 

“You’re an angel, hyung!” he picks his coat and briefcase, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, then,” 

And with that, he’s out of the office, long arms flapping around as he puts on his coat. Youngjo watches him with great amusement, but then turns his attention to the amount of documents waiting for him to go through, and his mood falls. 

“What about you?” Comes Geonhak’s voice, from the other end of the long meeting table. He’s been busy going through some minor cases as well. “Aren’t you going home?” He asks, even though he knows the answer to that. 

Youngjo shakes his head, opening a certain thick folder, as well as his laptop, “I need to go through a few things first.” 

A hum is all he gets in return, before he loses himself between files and reports. This is his safe zone, his area of expertise, the thing he chose to do because it felt like his life purpose rather than just an occupation. Defending the less fortunate ones, people who’s been wronged because of their circumstances, people who couldn’t stand a chance against their assaulters. He wanted to be their shield, their savior, and he wanted to do so the smart way. 

He’s never wanted to work with businessmen, or rich people in general, that’s Geonhak’s thing, not his. He steals a few glances at the latter, and sees him buried in those stacks of files, his reading glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose, a frown adorning his forehead. He might look exhausted, but Youngjo is not concerned, knowing very well that Geonhak is genuinely enjoying it -or at least he doesn’t hate it-, even if he wasn’t the one choosing this path for himself (but that’s a story for another time). 

The sight of him working diligently fuels Youngjo’s determination, and with that fresh energy, he goes back to the case at hand. 

Hours pass by without him realizing, until he’s startled by a familiar, deep voice by his side.

“Are you still not done?” 

Youngjo glances up a bit too quickly, the sudden change in lightning making his eyes burn, and a deep headache pierces right through his skull. He shuts his eyes, bringing a hand to the side of his head, where it hurst the most.

“Hey, are you okay?” Geonhak sounds closer now, a concerned hand already resting on his shoulder. Knowing how fussy he can get, Youngjo reassures him with a nod.

“Just a headache, it will go away if I rest my eyes for a minute,” he peeks at the other just enough to catch the worry on his face, before closing his eyes again and tilting his head to the side to rest it on Geonhak’s abdomen. 

“What time is it?” He questions, after he yawns tiredly. Geonhak’s hand moves from his shoulder to the top of his head, fingers slowly running through his hair.

“It’s past midnight,” he answers, tone low and soft.

“It’s late. We should probably head home,” that’s what Youngjo says, but he doesn’t move, the hand in his hair, and the familiar scent lulling him to sleep. Geonhak hums in confirmation, but does not order him to wake up. It’s one of those rare moments where he reciprocates Youngjo’s affection without objecting -because he always reciprocates it, but with a lot of empty complaints. 

These rare moments are the core of Youngjo’s confusion. He’s been in peace with his feelings for too long, has definitely drawn his boundaries, and he’s been following them diligently. And yet sometimes, when he pushes his luck, and is surprisingly met with a pliant Geonhak, he finds a dormant greed resting within him, waiting to be stirred to life. It takes him a lot of self-restraint, and a good-tempered control to keep it at peace. 

However, he doesn’t know for how longer he can keep himself in check. He just fears the day all hell breaks loose inside of him more than death itself. For years, Youngjo has been living with the daily prayer that today won’t be the day he loses control. It’s that same prayer and power of will that make him sit straight and open his eyes, a few minutes later.

“Let’s go home,” he doesn’t look at Geonhak, busying himself with collecting his things. He needs those few seconds to collect himself, to tame the overwhelming amount of emotions showing in his eyes. He’s too transparent, and Geonhak reads him like no other. One look at him in those vulnerable moments is all that he needs to see Youngjo’s heart’s deepest secret. 

Still, a secret is better kept a secret. 

As soon as he stands up, the weight of his blazer falls over his shoulders, so he beams gratefully at Geonhak. Despite it being the millionth time he’s done it for him, it still makes Youngjo’s heart trip over itself, like any other caring action he does for him out of sheer habit. There’s a lot of them. 

They walk in silence out of the office floor, and into the elevator to go down to the parking lot, which barely has a couple of cars parked in it. The rest of the building is just as deserted at this hour of the night, since everyone’s already left work by now. 

The breeze is a bit too freezing for a Spring night, so Youngjo walks faster to his fancy, black car, Geonhak on his tail. He unlocks the car for him, so that he’ll get inside as soon as he reaches it. Again, another thoughtful gesture that his friend does out of habit. 

Youngjo is only a few feet away from the passenger’s door, when a car enters the parking lot, tires screeching loudly against the asphalt. His jammed brain does not give it any attention, and definitely does not notice the man pointing his gun at him from the passenger’s seat, until it’s too late. 

But Geonhak’s always had a faster reflex than him, and before the man pulls the trigger, he’s shielding Youngjo’s body with his.

_**“A single rose can be my garden… a single friend, my world.”  
– Leo Buscaglia** _

_-TBC-_


	2. Crimson Red

Blood. 

Red and thick. 

It was such a familiar sight, and scent, in Kim Youngjo’s twenty-eight years of existence that he hates to say he’s gotten used to it. 

He was a clumsy kid by nature and used to fall and hurt himself a lot. Still, the amount trickling out of a busted knee is really insignificant, he’s realized the first time he’s seen his mother vomit blood. He was just eight back then. 

When he used to get into fights in middle school, he and Goenhak would usually end up with a few cuts, and he was the one to clean them. It became such a frequent happening for him to realize that getting hurt that often was not a normal thing, especially for kids their age. His wake up call was a very nasty fight on his first year in high school. 

As a freshman, he thought he’d continue being a peacemaker just like in middle school. It just didn’t occur to him that high school bullies would be stronger and crueler. He somehow ended up into a fight with the wrong sort, and it happened to be in some alley just outside of school. 

As usual, Geonhak rushed to his side, ready to get beaten up with him. Youngjo was blindly throwing punches -because he would never go down without a fight- when one of the bigger kids attacked him with a metal pole. Youngjo didn’t realize what was happening until Geonhak’s body collapsed into his, unconscious, and the other kids ran away. 

That day, sitting in the hospital’s waiting area, with blood soaking his white uniform shirt, and tears streaming down his face, Kim Youngjo realized how foolish he’s been. 

He never, not even once, has questioned whether or not Geonhak wanted to be involved in those fights, he just kept dragging him along, assuming that he didn’t mind. But really, who wouldn’t mind getting beaten up on a weekly -if not daily- basis? 

His father’s words came back to him, reminding him how sever Geonhak’s injuries usually were, compared to his. How could he be that blind, that he’s never noticed how the other did his best to protect him, every single fight? Geonhak would literally use his body to shield his, receiving most of the hits and punches. 

And at what cost? So that people would say that Youngjo is a good person? How is he a good person if he couldn’t even protect his closest friend, the person that mattered the most for him? That’s not being good, that’s being purely dumb and selfish. That needed to be fixed. 

After that day, Youngjo has stopped getting into fights. He didn’t want to see that amount of blood ever again, especially not coming out of Geonhak’s body. 

And yet, here he is again, aggressively washing the thick red liquid off his shaking hands, while the tears are uncontrollably falling down, mixing with the reddish water, going down the drain. All red disappears after the second wash, but he keeps rubbing his hands together under the running water, hoping to wash away the memory of it as well. 

At some point, he gives up, and grabs the sides of the sink instead to support his heavy body as his sobs get louder and louder. Hopefully, the sound of the running water would cover his pitiful cries, although, he’s sure his red eyes would give him away, anyways. 

When his breathing finally slows down, regaining a close-to-normal pace, he splashes his face with cold water multiple times, before walking out of the bathroom. He doesn’t bother changing his blood-stained shirt, and heads straight back to Geonhak’s room. 

However, he’s surprised to finds his father pacing in the hallway, agitatedly speaking on the phone. He’s wearing his silk pajamas, and judging by the hour, he probably was asleep before he’s received the call. As soon as he notices his son’s presence, he hangs up and rushes to him.

“Youngjo!” He hugs him briefly, “What happened? Are you okay?” He studies his face and body carefully, searching for any injuries.

“I’m okay,” he reassures him, “He’s-” he juts his chin in Geonhak’s room direction, “-not.” 

His father sighs in concern, “I was inside. Dr. Park said it’s a superficial injury. She’s taking care of it,” he says, as if reassuring himself more than Youngjo, or both of them. “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?”

Youngjo shakes his head, “He didn’t want to.”

He needn’t say more, his father understood. His gaze then turned hard, “Can you tell me what exactly happened? I talked with the officers, but I’d rather hear it directly from you.”

The memory brings an acid taste to his mouth, but he still needs to tell his father about it, so he swallows it down, and speaks, “We were at the parking lot, and then some car drove by. They had guns, and Geonhak saw them first,” he pauses, the words still clogging his throat, the scene still too vivid in his mind.

“I- I think they were aiming at me, but he-” he takes a deep breath to stop his eyes from welling with tears once more, “he jumped in front of it. We both fell down, and hid behind the car. I think they thought they got me, because they didn’t drive back to check.”

As he tells him the details of the incident, the fire in his father’s eyes becomes the more and more alarming, the frown on his forehead almost looking like a scar by the time he finishes. 

“Whoever it was, I will make sure they won’t see the daylight ever again, once they get caught,” he promises, voice shaking with anger. The man who just spoke was not the Minister of Interior Affairs. He’s a father, Youngjo’s father. And that man will unquestionably do everything in his power to keep that promise, even if it meant catching those culprits with his own bare hands. 

“But why would they try to kill me?” Youngjo hopelessly wonders. Even he knows that he’s more valuable alive.

His father’s gaze has gotten deadly by now, as he talks between gritted teeth, “We will know why. Soon.” 

Youngjo has never seen the older man this furious before. It even takes him a few moments to force himself to calm down. He releases one deep sigh before he speaks again, voice drastically softer, “You go check on him for now, and make sure you two rest well for tonight- or what’s left of it.”

Youngjo waits until his father disappears out of sight, before walking the rest of the way to Geonhak’s door, heart getting heavier with every step. He takes a deep breath, before knocking twice, announcing his arrival. When he gets inside, he finds Dr. Park collecting her tools, already finished with bandaging the wound. 

Not wanting to be anywhere near the bed, Youngjo stands next to the window on the opposite side of the room, gaze focused on the dark blue sky outside. He refuses to acknowledge the concerned pair of eyes that’s been following him ever since he’s entered the room. 

Geonhak is the one who got injured, but he’s sure that Youngjo is more affected by it than he is. He wishes for nothing more at the moment than to give him a hug and reassure him that everything is fine, that he is fine. 

“I’ll prescribe you a painkiller and antibiotics, and you need to clean the wound and change the bandages daily,” Dr. Park tells him, in her usual stern voice. She then pauses, to give him a scolding look, “You should consider yourself lucky. A few millimeters to the left, and the bullet could’ve pierced right through your neck.” 

_Instant death_ , that’s what she meant by her words. If only Youngjo wasn’t in ear-shot to hear that, but he’s here, he’s heard it, and now he’s totally facing the window, trying to hide his reaction from them. Geonhak still can see it through the rigid lines of his back, and the slightly trembling hands by his sides.

Dr. Park leaves not long after, and a dreadful silence falls upon the room. Youngjo is still refusing to face him, and he has no idea how to start this kind of conversations. This ain’t a typical situation, after all. It was a near death experience, for both of them. 

The man was clearly aiming at Youngjo’s head, and when Geonhak jumped in, last second, he put his own life in line too. Hopefully, his sudden interference had shifted them from the bullet’s original trajectory, and it ended up only grazing the side of his neck. The cut bled a lot, despite it being a superficial one, and it only made Youngjo panic more. 

The ride home was a nightmare for both of them. For Youngjo, because he needed to keep his eyes on the road, and get them to the mansion as fast as possible, while checking on Geonhak every second to make sure he’s still alive. And for Geonhak, because he had to witness Youngjo being hysteric, no matter how much he’s reassured him that he’s alright. 

The silence got unbearable, and Geonhak hates it when Youngjo holds back from speaking his feelings and mind out. It’s not in his nature, and it only make things more difficult for both of them. After long contemplation, Geonhak decides to approach the other and go from there, but as soon as his tiptoes touch the ground, a hard voice stops him mid-movement.

“Don’t you dare leave that bed.”

He meets the reflection of Youngjo’s furious glare on the window’s glass, and decides that he shouldn’t anger his friend any more. So he sits there like an obedient kid, waiting for Youngjo to cool down. It takes some time, longer than he’s expected, before the other talks again, and obviously, he’s nowhere calmer than he was a minute, or an hour ago.

“Why did you do it?” 

It didn’t sound like a question, but more like an accusation. Like Geonhak has done an unforgivable deed, betraying Youngjo and years of friendship all at once. Geonhak is almost confused about the other’s harsh tone, if not for Youngjo’s broken, sad whisper, that he could’ve easily missed, if his breathing was any louder.

“You promised.”

It takes him a moment, before his brain makes the effort of bringing back the memory of an old promise. He was forced to make it -by circumstances and not by Youngjo-, after almost getting a concussion in a fight in high school. 

_“Promise me that you would never, ever again, let yourself get hurt because of me, or while protecting me,”_ Youngjo has looked too serious back then, for someone holding out a pinky. Still, Geonhak couldn’t make fun of him, not when his eyes were puffed from too much crying, and the front of his shirt covered in dried blood. Geonhak’s blood. He’s made him go through too much terror not to grant him his wish. So, without much consideration of the future, he hooked his pinky around Youngjo’s.

_“I promise.”_

But after that day, a lot of things changed. He didn’t notice it right away, but when two weeks passed by without Youngjo getting into a fight, he started getting suspicious. After all, a month with clear-of-bruises faces was a record for both of them. And then, one day, two kids were ganging against another, and it was all happening in front of Youngjo. To Geonhak’s utter shock, he didn’t interfere, and just walked past them, totally turning a blind eye on the kid getting his money taken away. Geonhak noticed the fisted hands and the tensity of his body, and he finally connected the dots. 

Youngjo has stopped getting into fights because of that incident, _because_ of Geonhak, _for_ Geonhak. He really made an exceptional effort, but that didn’t mean that trouble didn’t come to him instead. He was like a magnet to them. There were some kids who enjoyed provoking Youngjo a bit too much, but getting ignored by him got them furious. 

Geonhak saw red the moment one of them directed a punch in Youngjo’s direction. Watching Youngjo give up on being a peacemaker because of him was frustrating enough, but watching Youngjo get bullied drove him up the wall. Instead of getting defensive, Geonhak threw some vicious punches that day. It was his first time attacking, and he enjoyed the feeling of having the upper hand for once. 

After that day, protecting Youngjo became his one and only duty. Puberty was generous with him, gifting him with a deep voice that could easily intimidate other kids. Still, he needed more than that, and that’s why he started training, vigorously. He was already growing taller, and shedding away his baby fat. The muscles looked good on him, and no one dared mess with him, or Youngjo -because they knew they wouldn’t be able to escape Geonhak’s wrath if they dared touch a single hair of him-, for the rest of high school. 

Geonhak’s unspoken duty of protecting Youngjo didn’t stop at that. He’s sworn he’d always be Youngjo’s shield, just like how Youngjo has always been his shelter. He’s sworn to protect Youngjo from every harm, be it a person, a thing, or even a feeling, just like how Youngjo has sheltered him in his home, in his arms, and in his heart. 

And that’s when he’s decided that as important keeping a promise was, some things could be more important than that. Protecting Youngjo was the one and only item on that list. 

“I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t.” Youngjo firmly stops him, turning around. Geonhak finally gets to see how swollen and red his eyes are. His heart drops to the pit of his stomach. Even if he’s succeeded at protecting him from that bullet, he’s failed at protecting him from the psychological pain. It was a trade-off he couldn’t have a say in.

Youngjo fixes him with his hard glare, “Don’t apologize when you don’t mean it.”

“But I mean it,” Goenhak refutes, in a heartbeat, “I don’t regret saving you, but I feel bad for breaking our promise.” 

Youngjo scoffs, “Saving me? Is that what you call it? Should I thank you then?” 

The expression on his face is so foreign, makes him look like a different person. Almost a stranger. And the tone he uses is one that he saves for those spiteful defendants, never directed at Geonhak. 

“Youngjo-” he weakly calls, shocked and hurt, but mostly concerned for his friend.

Said guy takes determined strides in his direction, and up close, Geonhak could see how clouded with anger his face and eyes are. Youngjo speaks his next words in a dangerously low tone.

“Don’t you ever think that I will be grateful for you putting your life on line for mine,” he warns him, his index jabbing at his shoulder, “If you end up dead, I will never forgive you, Kim Geonhak. I will resent you till my last breath,” his gaze is unforgiving, as he looks down into Geonhak’s eyes, “I won’t attend your funeral, or visit your grave. And I would never shed a tear over you. That, I can promise you,” he says it with such intensity, that he’s out of breath when he finishes. 

They hold eye contact for two long minutes, Youngjo’s eyes still alight with a raging fire, while Geonhak’s are shocked and hurt. Those words hurt. A lot. 

Deep down, Geonhak knows that they’re nothing but empty threats. Still, they pierce right through him, through his heart.

He is certain that if anything unfortunate happens to him -death in worst case scenario-, Youngjo will suffer the most because of it. He’ll take the whole blame for it, even if it’s something completely out of his control, and will definitely cry the most, because Youngjo _loves_ him.

Youngjo really, really loves him, that’s a fact and not an assumption. Geonhak just doesn’t know the extent of that love. He’s seen it grow with them. He’s seen it evolve from awkward playmates, to joined-to-the-hip best friends, to more. He used to see the shape of it, to know its boundaries, but not any more. It’s grown too deep, too big, that the outlines are now blurred, unclear. And Geonhak is genuinely terrified because of that love. 

Whether it goes beyond what they should be, or fails to meet his greedy heart, it’s all bound to hurt, because Youngjo will never be his. So for now, he’s okay with the ambiguity of it, even if it makes him hopeful at times, and miserable for most times. 

Geonhak ignores the pain growing inside of his heart -both old and new-, and focuses on the fear hidden behind the flames blazing around Youngjo. All of the anger, the harsh words, the cold glares, are nothing but a defense system he’s using to hide how frightened he is. And Geonhak hates that system, to say the least. 

“I didn’t do it so that I could gain your gratitude,” he beams sincerely, and watches as Youngjo’s fury crumbles into confusion, then shock, when he takes his hand between his. It’s cold to the touch, and still shaking. 

“I did it because I’d rather lose my life than let you get hurt. I won’t apologize for saving you, but I’m apologizing because I don’t regret it, and if something like that happens again, I would still protect you with my life.” Geonhak says it with all the honesty within his heart, because he means it, and he wishes for Youngjo to understand that that’s the essence of their relationship.

Youngjo stares at him silently for a second, then another, as if having difficulty processing his words. When he finally does, his eyes turn red, glossy. And yet, he still holds the tears back.

“I never asked for your protection,” his voice is now significantly weaker, more vulnerable. _Desperate_. “I just want you by my side.”

Geonhak shakes his head, “It’s a two-in-one deal, you can’t have either one without the other,” it almost comes out as a joke, if not for the painful truth that statement holds. And that truth, at long last, hits Youngjo ruthlessly, causing havoc after havoc, upon his already disoriented state. 

Helpless and regretful, Geonhak only watches as Youngjo pulls his hand from his hold, taking an unsteady step back, fervently shaking his head. The words that leave his lips next, knock all the air out of Geonhak’s lungs, leaving him breathless, suffocating. 

“Then I’d rather not have any of them.” 

There’s no hint of hesitation in Youngjo’s voice, and no regret on his face thereafter. If anything, his expression further hardens, fueled by determination -determination to properly destroy Geonhak’s resolve-, as he adds, “I’ve been stepping on my heart for too long, and I can do it for as long as it takes.”

Youngjo has spent so many years living in fear, too scared to express his true feelings. And yet, those words slip past his lips so easily, so effortlessly, that he believes that now is the right time for this conversation. He can’t imagine any worse circumstances for a love confession. Or maybe it’s because of those circumstances that the truth was set free so easily. 

The exhaustion and the stress of work, the shock of the attack, the devastation of almost losing Geonhak, they all came together to push him past his limits and to finally address the elephant in the room. But Youngjo suddenly being ready, doesn’t mean that Geonhak is. 

“What do you mean by that?” He stutters, something akin to fear filling his eyes. 

Be it any other day, Youngjo would’ve spared him, would’ve changed the course of the conversation in a heartbeat. But not today, not after what has happened. 

“You know exactly what I mean by that.”

Youngjo is just so, so tired of running away, and the words keep coming out of his mouth, unstoppable. 

“I’ve done a great job at suppressing my feelings for you, just to keep you by my side. I was satisfied with having you as my best friend, but if I was to make a choice, I’d rather sacrifice our friendship than your life. I’d rather live with longing for the rest of my life, than with grief.” 

No matter how easy admitting his feelings turns out to be, it brings anything but peace upon him, and upon his heart. His vision turns bleary because of the tears filling his eyes once more, but he’s be damned if he lets them fall. He’s stronger than that. He should be. 

Geonhak is nothing but a frozen status, as he keeps staring at him in both shock and fear. Painful moments of stillness drag by, before Youngjo decides that he can’t handle the silence anymore, let alone Geonhak’s answer. He’s already on the verge of another breakdown and he’d rather no one sees it, certainly not Geonhak.

“We’re both tired. Try to rest well, since we won’t be going to work today.” 

With a final look at Geonhak’s unchanged expression, he leaves the room, heart in pieces. He knew all along that confession his feelings will do more damage than good. For all these years, he and Geonhak were rational enough to ignore the matter, but he’s just ruined it all, thrown all their efforts away. 

The reason why Youngjo never bothered confessing was because Geonhak reciprocating his feelings was his least concern. They were each others’ first kisses, and first times, that’s true, but that didn’t need to mean anything. Even if it did, Geonhak made it very clear that he didn’t want it to mean anything. 

-

It happened years and years ago, when they were hot-blooded youngsters with overflowing passion, and reckless minds. It was probably the only time they had a serious fight, and it lasted for days. 

The cause of the fight itself was surprisingly serious. Youngjo has announced that he wanted to go to law school, and Geonhak automatically wanted to follow him, his only reason was that he wanted to be by his side. It got Youngjo furious. And when he asked the other to choose what he really wanted to do, and not follow him blindly, he refused to listen. 

Naturally, Youngjo easily gives in, especially for his best friend, while Geonhak is easily the most stubborn person he’s ever known. For once, Youngjo wanted to be as stubborn, and he stood his ground. So, for almost a week, they kept ignoring each other. It was the longest week in his life, even longer than college finals week. 

In the end, they decided to settle it like grown ups. They sneaked drinks in Youngjo’s room -which wasn’t for the first time-, and drank in silence for a while. Once the effect of the alcohol started kicking in, a dodgy conversation started flowing between them, words getting harsher than needed, and it soon got physical. They weren’t mad enough, or drunk enough to hit or punch hard, but it still resulted in a few bruises, here and there. 

The tension kept escalating, with no sign to slowing down, and at some point, the pushing turned into pulling, the kicks and punches turned into hungry kisses and desperate touches. Eventually, their fight lead to the very first, and most passionate night of their lives.

After that night, Geonhak was able to convince him that he was genuinely interested in becoming a lawyer as well. Or maybe Youngjo easily gave in because he couldn’t imagine being apart from the other, not after he’s confirmed the nature of the overflowing feelings residing within his heart. 

At the time, he foolishly hoped they could become something more. So he’s tried bringing that night up, once, but was met with a violent reaction from Geonhak, who then started avoiding any kind of physical contact with him. It was a silent rejection, as he made it very clear that they should pretend that nothing ever happened between them. 

It hurt like hell, but more than anything, it’s what pushed Youngjo to bury his feelings in the deepest corner of his heart (because they just refused to go away). 

He was drunk that night, but he still remembers every moment, every touch, every sound, everything. It was either too fast at some point, or too slow at another, both of them inexperienced and clumsy, getting a taste of pure ecstasy for the first time. But for him, it was perfect, because it was Geonhak. It has always been Geonhak in his heart, and no one else. 

However, Geonhak refused to acknowledge that love, never allowing Youngjo’s heart to reach for his. 

-

After getting woken up by a nightmare for the third time in a row, Youngjo gives up on sleeping, and decides to go down. It’s already noon so he heads to the kitchen to get something to eat, albeit his lack of hunger. 

He’s passing by the main hall when he catches glimpses of Geonhak in the living room, squeezed between the twins on one of the many couches. It’s too late to pretend he didn’t see them, so he takes a deep breath, collects his courage, and walks right inside. 

Dongju is currently latched to Geonhak’s right shoulder, biting his hand off, and Dongmyeong on his right, curiously studying the bandage on the side of his neck. He looks like he wants to touch it so badly, but too scared to hurt the elder. 

Usually, Youngjo would laugh at the other’s misery, and tease him for being such an easy prey for the twins, letting them torment him as they please. After their latest conversation, however, he doesn’t think he’d be able to meet Geonhak’s eyes for a while, let alone talk to him.

“Hyung!” Dongmyeong cries and runs to him as soon as he sees him, alarming his brother who follows suit. They both hug him tightly, before simultaneously letting go and hitting him, hard.

“Hey! What was that for?” He yelps, rubbing the hurt spots on his arms. 

“For making us worry,” Dongju glares at him for a good moment, then walks back to his previous spot. 

Dongmyeong blinks in confusion, before saying, “That’s not why I hit you.” He shrugs, “I’m just upset that Geonhak hyung is hurt.” 

“So you wouldn’t’ve been upset if Youngjo hyung was the one hurt?” Dongju questions, looking impassively at his twin. 

The latter’s face turns red, “That’s not what I meant! Of course I don’t want either of them to get hurt! Why are you turning me into the bad guy?” 

Feeling wronged, Dongmyeon decides to sulk while hugging Youngjo’s side. He might be doing it on purpose, or unintentionally, but Youngjo is thankful for the hug anyways. It’s kind of comforting, and he’s been desperately in need of one. 

He’s always said that the twins have a special sense that allows them to feel other people’s distress. And judging by the way Dongju is glued to Goenhak’s side, and Dongmyeong to his, they probably sensed the tension between them, and they’re trying to provide them with the moral support they need. 

Youngjo has lost his mother at a young age, but God has blessed him with a lot of precious people to fill that void. First Geonhak, and then the twins. He wasn’t really excited for his father’s second marriage, but he just wanted to be a supportive son. However, the twins won him over from the very first second. 

Geonhak always joked that he treated them as his sons, rather than siblings, and he couldn’t refute it. He had a very soft spot for them, always doting on them and spoiling them shitless. He couldn’t help it, really. 

Dongmyeong and Dongju’s banter continued for a while, slightly alleviating the mood between the two elders, who still refused to acknowledge each other’s presence. The sudden call from his father asking him to join him at his office saves him from the unbearable mood. Youngjo really couldn’t stand sitting their any longer, pretending that everything is fine, when it obviously is not. 

As if on autopilot, Geonhak automatically stands up to come with him, so he raises a hand to stop him, “You should rest more, dad already sent Seoho to get me,” his lips tug into an awkward smile, hoping that the other won’t a put a fight and would do as he said. But what’s Geonhak if not stubborn.

“I’m fine, I can come with you,” he insists, and Youngjo almost sighs, thinking of ways to convince him to stay now. 

Thank God for the blessing that is Dongju. He forcefully tugs on Geonhak’s arm, plopping him back on the couch, “You’re injured, a little bit of rest won’t hurt you.”

Geonhak is about to protest, but a glare from the younger shuts him instantly. Youngjo secretly shoots Dongju a grateful look before leaving. He really needed to get out of there. 

-

“You really can’t take a hint, don’t you?” Dongju asks as soon as Youngjo is out of the door, “He obviously doesn’t want to be around you for now, and I really want to know why.”

He fixes him with his hard gaze, and Geonhak can’t help but squirm under it. It didn’t require an observant person to notice that Youngjo was uncomfortable around him, which has never happened before. 

“You know you can tell us anything,” Dongmyeong encourages him, and he almost gives in. Almost. 

Instead, he opts to shaking his head, “It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry.” He tries to reassure them, but gets a smack on the back of his head instantly. He forgot how vicious Dongju can be. 

“Just tell us how stupid you were so we can help you,” he demands, his patience running thin. 

The question hits right home though, making him wince. While Geonhak has only done what should be done, said what should be said, he can’t seem to get rid of the regret and guilt burdening his heart.

When he lowers his head in shame, still refusing to give them an answer, Dongymyeong tries a different approach to test how horrible things are, “At a scale from 1 to 10, how mad do you think he is?” 

He thinks it over, before finally answering, “I don’t think he’s mad at me anymore. He’s just disappointed?”

_Heartbroken._ He doesn’t say that out loud.

“Disappointed?” Dongju echoes, still skeptic.

Geonhak runs his hand in his hair, pulling at his strands furiously, “I think- no I’m certain- I hurt him, really badly, and I don’t know how to fix this, and I don’t think you two can fix it either, okay? I fucked up big time!” 

The outburst is unintentional, merely an outbreak of all the accumulated emotions of the last fourteen hours or so. It gains him concerned looks from Dongju and Dongmyeong, and it’s one of those rare moments where you can really see the resemblance between them. 

“I don’t know what has really happened, but you shouldn’t overthink it, cause it won’t do you any good,” Dongju puts a hand on his knee, “If you did something wrong, just apologize. We all know that Youngjo hyung cannot physically survive a day without talking to you, anyways.”

The last part is said as a joke, but it only makes Geonhak feel worse. He feels like crying. Maybe he is crying, judging by the sided hugs he’s suddenly getting from the younger two.

“Hyung, you know that we’re here for you, we will always be,” Dongmyeong mumbles against his shoulder.

“And you know you can’t keep everything inside,” Dongju adds, “you can tell us anything, or anyone else, just don’t bottle your feelings like this.”

Their advices might sound too general, too generic. And yet, Geonhak understands the meanings behind them, sees their intentions in their eyes. The twins do really have special senses for these kind of things. 

In the end, he doesn’t tell them anything, but for once, he lets himself indulge in that emotional hug. He momentarily clears his mind and heart from every burden, before he has to stand up again and face the reality. 

-

“He literally took a bullet for you and that’s how you reacted?” Seoho’s squinting eyes are judging, and Youngjo is already regreting telling him anything at all.

“Focus on the road,” Youngjo pushes the other’s head to face the road instead. He’s already had his share of accidents for the last twenty-four hours. 

Lee Seoho is his one “special” friend. He’s a security agent, who’s believed to be a genius in all aspects. Youngjo had the chance to meet him years ago when Seoho was still in training and was assigned to guard his father during a sensitive time. He’s been genuinely impressed by his smart mouth and easy-going nature, two completely unexpected characteristics in his line of work. They became friends, to Geonhak’s misfortune, as Seoho got under his skin like no other. 

In all honesty, the guy did have that effect on people. Strangers would think he’s manipulative, but Youngjo thinks he’s just too good at analyzing others, just like how he did as soon as Youngjo got into the car a few minutes ago, without Geonhak. It took him exactly two seconds to make Youngjo spell everything out. That’s what kind of a person Lee Seoho is.

“It’s not that simple.” Youngjo lets out after a while, still helpless. 

“Of course it’s not!” Seoho scoffs, tone sarcastic as he adds, “I forgot that you’re the most overdramatic duo I’ve ever met.” 

That gets him a glare form the other, that he totally ignores. “You love him, he loves you back, what’s so complicated about this?” 

Youngjo shakes his head, “Loving each other is one thing, accepting each other’s feelings is a total different thing.” 

When Seoho gives him an unimpressed, unconvinced side-look, he further explains, “Even if Geonhak loves me back-”

“-Which he obviously does,” his friend interjects, as if he’s just stating a common-knowledge fact. It hurts him that he can’t even protest, can’t deny it. Youngjo sometimes wonder if it would hurt less if Geonhak didn’t love him back -at least not in that way. 

“Even if he does,” he repeats, putting emphasis on the _‘if’_ , “he’ll never allow himself to indulge in a relationship with me. He’ll never accept anything beyond the friends title.”

Miraculously, Seoho holds back from spurting another sarcastic comment, sticking to a simple question, “And why is that?”

Gaze focused on the outside world passing by in a blur, Youngjo lets the familiar question bring back the one and only answer he’s found for it. It tastes bitter on his tongue when said out loud. 

“Because it might cost him _his everything_.”

**_“A rose dreams of enjoying the company of bees, but none appears. The sun asks: ‘Aren’t you tired of waiting?’  
‘Yes,’ answers the rose, ‘but if I close my petals, I will wither and die.’”  
– Paulo Coelho_ **

_-TBC-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was not proofread, so I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading, and I hope you like it =D Your feedback is more than welcomed, so don't be shy to drop a comment <3
> 
> For now, I will update every Monday/Tuesday (depending on your timezones), so please be patient with me ^__^ Wherever you are, be happy, be safe, and be healthy Yall!! <3


	3. Thorns

__

_They lose Mrs. Kim on one gloomy December afternoon, just a few months after Geonhak moved in. Her health had been deteriorating for a while, and the doctors had warned them of that day nearing. So when it happened, it was expected, regrettably so, yet peaceful._

_It was snowing heavily outside. Youngjo was by her bed side, reciting her favorite poem for her, as her husband was feeding her some soup. Mrs. Kang took the food tray away once Mrs. Kim said she’s no longer hungry, and Youngjo finished the last verse without a single mistake, gaining proud smiles from both his parents.  
Despite the circumstances, they still looked like a loving, happy family, for Geonhak who was silently watching from the side of the room. He didn’t envy them, he just missed his own parents, his own happy family. _

_It was time for Mrs. Kim to nap, but before closing her eyes, and as if she could sense it, she let her glance move around the room, stopping at every face, and giving each one a meaningful look. When she finally did close her eyes, she did it for the last time. Mrs. Kim passed away with her family members by her side, and her lips tugged in a serene smile._

_Youngjo was very aware of his mother’s condition, and was rather in peace with the risk of losing her at any time. However, it didn’t make things any less hard for him, as it still affected him, severely. He locked himself inside of his room for the first week after, refusing to eat, or talk to anyone. When Geonhak finally managed to drag him outside, he wasn’t the Youngjo he used to be anymore._

_So, Geonhak took it upon himself to give him back his smiles, just how Youngjo has done the same for him when he first came over. It wasn’t easy, and it required a lot of patience, and empathy, but he could do it. No one understood Youngjo’s suffering as much as he did, and no one could break him out of his mourning, other than Geonhak._

_Maybe that’s what helped them build an unbreakable bond, back then, both of them helping each other fight the shadows of despair, and mend the wounds caused by their grave losses. Hand in hand, they were able to stand back up on their feet, ready to face the world, more matured and stronger._

_However, Youngjo’s support system did not consist of people only._

_“What are you doing?” Geonhak asks curiously. He’s just found Youngjo sitting on the grass, legs crossed, facing his late mother’s corner, and talking._

_The other looks startled by the interruption, but not bothered. “Venting?” He answers, uncertain on how to explain his rather odd actions._

_Geonhak’s eyebrows shoot up in question, “To the flowers?”_

_Visibly offended, Youngjo turns around, with a humph. He hugs his knees to his chest, lips forming a sulking pout. Geonhak sits down next to him, “Hey, I’m not mocking you,” he nudges his side with his elbow, “I just don’t get it. Wouldn’t it be better to vent to people? At least then you’ll get a response back.” He tries to explain his point of view._

_“I know, but these flowers are different,” Youngjo smiles fondly as he adds, “they’re like my family.”_

_Geonhak nods understanding. He’s heard those words before, they were Mrs. Kim’s. Geonhak has expressed his fascination by her garden one too many times, so she’s explained to him the importance of those flowers. Not only did she personally plant all of them, but each one represented a family member._

_The blue delphiniums represented her husband, protective and ambitious, and they bloom just in time in July for his birthday. The Allouise Pink chrysanthemums were Mr. Kim’s pick for her, and it wasn’t so hard for Geonhak to see why. The man truly loved his wife, and everything about her was too gentle and too kind._

_As for Youngjo, she initially planted Baby’s breath, but when he was old enough, he asked for the red roses. He deemed them more suitable, because he was being raised and showered with love, and was very loving in return. Again, a perfectly befitted choice._

_Even Geonhak has his own flowers there, but he doesn’t think he resembles them at all._

_“Also,” Youngjo adds after a long moment of silent contemplation, “I think it’s easier to talk to them. And maybe if I say what’s bothering me once, it will be easier to share it with people afterwards?” He finishes with a hesitant smile, hoping that his friend understands._

_Geonhak doesn’t. “Fair enough,” is his reply, solely because he’s a good friend._

__

-

Almost two decades later, and Geonhak still can’t get Youngjo’s habit of talking to the flowers. What’s the point, really? It’s no different that talking to one’s own self. 

After the last twenty-four hours’ happenings, whatsoever, he thinks he’s in need of something like that. The twins’ hugs did help, but at some point it started getting stuffy, Geonahk not used to that much attention. He miraculously manages to escape their grasps, and run off to the back garden.

He sits down on that same exact spot, hoping for this to be actually effective. It’s his last resort. Unspoken feelings are sitting like a heavy load in the pit of his heart, unsaid words fogging his brain and refusing to let him think clearly. He wants to let everything out, but his tongue is knotted. He thinks that telling the flowers will be easier, and it will hopefully make him lighter, lessen his burdens. 

Geonhak can’t tell the twins, no matter how much he trusts them. He can’t tell Youngjo either, not sooner or later. So he’s planning to just let it out in the air, and hope these flowers, and the blowing wind won’t betray him. 

He starts by taking a deep breath, and then his mouth opens… and nothing comes out. It opens and closes multiple times, barely one syllabus and other unidentifiable sounds leaving his lips, and that’s it. 

He ruffles his hair in frustration. “Why can’t you do it even like this?” He grumbles to himself. 

Geonhak tries again, and again, and again, in vain. His heart is still holding those feelings hostages, and his brain refuses to even formulate a sentence to express them. All that he manages to let out is a deep, defeated sigh. 

After a failed attempt after another, Geonhak gives up. He decides to just stare at the flowers in silence. Maybe the sight alone will bring him some kind of peace, like it always does. He might never express it, but like all the occupants of this house, he loves this part of the garden, maybe not as much as Youngjo does, but close enough. 

Since they’re halfway through Spring, the left side has already turned into a colorful canvas. More red roses have bloomed ever since the last time Geonhak has been here. Madam Yoon’s white and yellow daffodils, as well as Dongju’s purple freesias are all in full bloom. The only ones missing are Dongmyeong’s Gerbera daisies, which would usually add splashes of fiery orange to the canvas during Summer. 

All varieties on that side were personally chosen and planted by Youngjo, while those on the right side were planted by his late mother. Said side is currently nothing but a green area. Youngjo has already cut the rest of the chrysanthemums, and the delphiniums are expected to make an appearance somewhere mid-summer. Even Geonhak’s roses are not expected to bloom for another month or so, and Youngjo will be all over them. 

He absolutely adores them, and cherish them like no other. Geonhak used to think he does so because they only bloom once throughout the whole year. Now, whatsoever, he highly doubts that that’s the only reason behind Youngjo’s special treatment for those particular roses.

And another sigh gets carried away by the blowing wind. 

-

The rest of the day goes by without Geonhak seeing Youngjo again. The latter might be avoiding him, but he wouldn’t know, because after the long, useless hours spent in the garden, he’s retreated back to his room and hid there. Rather than calling it a coward move, he’d say he’s giving Youngjo the space he needs, at least for now. He can’t avoid him for too long, anyways.

It also gives him the chance to finally focus on this whole, crazy situation, and what he needs to do about it. His mind falls into an infinite spiral thinking process, without coming with any concrete decision or conclusion. Absolutely nothing. 

It’s around dinner time that he gets an unexpected visitor. He recognizes the slow knocks, and hurries to personally open the door, hoping he’s looking decent and representable enough. 

“Good evening, sir,” he politely greets the man, “Please come inside,” He invites him, knowing that the man wouldn’t be here if not to discuss a serious matter. 

Mr. Kim gives him a tight smile as he enters the room, closing the door behind his back. He walks to the reading seat, and waits till Geonhak sits on the other one before asking, “How are you feeling today?” 

“I’m okay,” Geonhak unconsciously touches the bandage on the side of his neck. It’s about time he changes it. “The cut is not deep, so it doesn’t really hurt.” 

The man nods understandingly, visibly in deep thoughts. Checking on Geonhak’s wellbeing is probably not the purpose of this sudden visit. Or maybe it is, along another, more important purpose. 

“I’ve already talked with Youngjo about this, and I thought it will be better if I told you about it in person,” he starts, straight to the point, as usual. “The attack, last night, we already have a lead about the culprit.” 

It’s only now that mr. Kim has brought it up, that Geonhak realizes he’s totally forgot about that particular detail. His brain has somehow decided to focus on only one thing at a time (that thing being Youngjo’s confession). Surprisingly enough, he can already think of a main suspect.

“Is it Assembly member Lee?” He questions, almost certain about it. 

However, Mr. Kim’s heavy frown seems to mean otherwise. “That’s the thing, he’s not directly involved.” He sighs heavily, and Geonhak can see how troubled he is by it. He understands, though. The man almost lost his son. 

“Based on the surveillance camera’s footage the investigation team got, they were able to conclude that the two guys were part of a gang, but the attack has to be connected to the lawsuit.”

Geonhak connects the dots in his head, “So Mr. Lee is…?”

“He sent them to get rid of Youngjo before the trial,” he finishes for him. 

It sounds cruel, what he’s implying. The unimaginable possibilities bring the blood in Geonhak’s veins to a boiling degree. 

“What are we going to do about it?” He questions, trying to contain the anger in his voice. 

“At the moment, nothing. These are some serious accusations that can’t be thrown so easily.” Mr. Kim says, even though he looks like he wants to throw the man in the pits of hell. “I have assigned a team of trusted agents to take care of this case. Until they get their hands on solid evidences, we’ll have to be extra careful. All of you will be under heavy security, in the meantime.” 

“Did Youngjo agree to this?” Geonhak asks, knowing very well how the other hates being surrounded by guards.

Mr. Kim affirms with a nod, “He asked for it, actually. He said that he didn’t want last night to repeat itself.” 

The response makes Geonhak feel stupid for asking such a question in the first place. He shouldn’t’ve expected less from Youngjo, after all. 

“Geonhak,” Mr. Kim calls his name softly, aura suddenly shifting from the one of a minister, to the one of a caring father, “I don’t want to scare you, but you both are in great danger. I know we can’t change Youngjo’s mind about the lawsuit, but can you at least stay by his side, and make sure that he doesn’t make any reckless decisions, please?” 

Judging by the man’s openly distressed tone, Geonhak is almost convinced that the matter is more serious than he think it is. There was something that Mr. Kim was not telling him, and asking for it is totally useless, as it can be confidential information.

“His mother used to give me a hard time with her rash actions, so I know what it must be like to deal with him,” he adds, his gaze turning fond at the memory of his late wife, “but I have all faith in you to rationalize him when he gets like that. We’re in a critical situation, and we can’t allow any slips.”

No. Geonhak is certain that the investigators have found some serious information that he’s not allowed to ask about or know. It doesn’t do his sky-high level of stress any good. 

“Don’t worry, Sir. I will do everything in my power to keep him safe. And I won’t leave his side, I promise.” Even if he doesn’t know what kind of situation they’re in, he’d still protect Youngjo, with his life. 

“Thank you, son.” Mr. Kim pats him on the shoulder, smiling slightly, before he stands up to leave. “Rest well, Geonhak, and have a good night.” 

It’s very rare for Mr. Kim to ever address him this warmly. His affection towards him is usually more discreet, more silent. Still, Geonhak never blames him for it, if anything, he’ll be forever grateful for the man. He can’t even imagine where he’d be today if it wasn’t for him. 

Mr. Kim was one of his parents colleagues. He too used to be a special agent back then, and they were working together on a very dangerous case. Geonhak’s first time meeting him was on the night of his parents’ accident. He came searching for him, ensuring that the perpetrators didn’t get to him. Back then, ten-years old Geonhak didn’t understand why he had to spend the night under the supervision of those police officers. 

When they finally broke the heartbreaking news to him, the next day, Mr. Kim was the one who comforted him and hugged him as he cried. He was also the one to grant him his wish to see them for one last time. Geonhak’s memories of the funeral and the following days are hazy, as he’s spent them mostly crying. When the police finally decided that he was safe, they dropped him at his aunt’s doorstep, and left.

His aunt lived in a tiny apartment, and deemed alcohol and cigarettes more worthy of her money than decent food and heating. She saw him as a burden and didn’t refrain from expressing it whenever she had the chance to do so. Geonhak, a kid who’s just lost his parents, couldn’t even mourn them properly, because his brain was more busy dealing with the constant hunger, and the biting coldness of the nights spent sleeping on a rag on the floor. 

After one week of pure torture, Mr. Kim miraculously showed up at his aunt’s. He mainly came to check on Geonhak, even brought some necessities with him. However, he must’ve sensed the woman’s irresponsibility from how trashed the apartment looked, and from how much Geonhak’s state has worsened. His doubts were confirmed when she bluntly smoke a joint in front of him. 

Mr. Kim’s excuse to take Geonhak away was really poor, something about his son needing a friend -he eventually realized it wasn’t just an excuse-, but it worked like magic. His aunt was more than glad to send him away. 

To say that Geonhak was amazed but the size of the Kim’s mansion, would be an understatement. He had his mouth hanging open for long, long minutes, as he kept following Mr. Kim through the hallways. Even as a kid, he had the prejudice that big houses were cold and the people living there were heartless. Hopefully, none of his expectations were proven right. 

Mrs. Kim was radiating with warmth, love, and care. She treated him like her own son, showering him with her overflowing affection. And Youngjo was a smaller copy of her, even if a bit awkward. Together, they coerced Geonhak out of his shy shell, and brought a genuine smile to his lips. They made him forget all the sorrow burdening his heart. 

Before Geonhak could even count the days, two weeks passed by just like that, between Mrs. Kim’s small garden, and Youngjo’s room. He wished for time to stop so he could stay with them longer. 

They must’ve sensed his reluctance to go back to his aunt’s. He’s already opened up to Mrs. Kim, telling her everything about how his aunt was treating him. But the main reason behind him staying was probably Mr. Kim realizing that they needed him as much as he needed them. 

When he first arrived, there was a certain melancholy in the air. Mrs. Kim was too sick, and Youngjo -even if he didn’t let it show- was too young to handle the implications of her illness. With Geonhak around, Mrs. Kim started to look healthier, brighter, even if too pale to be considered healthy, and Youngjo got to regain his natural liveliness and cheerfulness. It’s been too long since laughter was heard inside those walls. 

Geonhak was never officially adopted, but his aunt was more than glad to give him up without any legal paperwork. He has a feeling that she didn’t notice he’s been gone for so long, or just forgot about his existence all together. 

Anyways, that’s how a two-week vacation with the Kims has turned into a permanent stay, for Geonhak who’s found _home._

-

As the days became longer, the nights became shorter, and the weather got significantly warmer, fully embracing the Spring ambiance. People were shedding off their heavy coats in favor of lighter wear, and spending more time outside, after long months of hiding from the biting cold inside the confines of their houses. 

The world outside was getting more vibrant and lively, while an opposite shift was happening inside the Kim’s mansion. 

Ever since the attack, a thick layer of tension has fallen over the once-peaceful mansion. Mr. Kim has assigned different security teams to accompany his family members whenever they go outside, and has ordered to intensify the security at every entrance. The minister’s family members are understanding, and try to go on with their lives as usual, but it’s hard to ignore the scent of danger and fear following them around. 

For Geonhak, the last two weeks have easily been the hardest two weeks of his entire life. For instance, he has to always be attentive about his surroundings, in case another attack happens, despite the presence of the security agents. 

And yet, that wasn’t the worst part about the ordeal. Youngjo -it’s always about him, isn’t it?- is still giving him the cold shoulder, if it can be called that. Nowadays, their relationship is all business, with few polite questions. 

No more fond smiles, no more joking around, no more silent eye conversations, nothing of that. They were acting as acquaintances at best. And Geonhak already misses Youngjo- _his Youngjo_ -, so fucking much. It didn’t matter that they spent more than fifteen hours a day on average together. Youngjo felt like he was drifting far, far away from him. Unreachable. And Geonhak wanted nothing more than to run after him, hold his hand, and pour all of his heart to him. 

He doesn’t - _can’t_ \- do it.

All in all, it’s been too tense, too suffocating, that Geonhak is almost thankful for Keonhee, when he treats the whole office to dinner after winning some challenging case. Almost, because it soon moves to level two, and they end up in a crowded club. He’s on edge, trying to keep an eye on Youngjo, who’s drunk a bit too much and is currently dancing in a sea of strangers. 

There was a time when Youngjo used to enjoy clubbing, it was mainly during college. Even then, he wasn’t really fond of being pressed against drunk strangers. Tonight, it doesn’t seem to be the case. Geonhak watches with fisted hands as Youngjo dances with some girl, bodies pressed close, intimately so.

“Are you trying to murder someone with your eyes?” 

The sarcastic comment, spoken so closely to his ear because of the loud music, forces an irritated growl out of him. He’s almost forgotten about Seoho’s presence. The latter is wearing more causal clothes to fit the atmosphere of the club, while in reality, he’s still on duty, alongside three other agents scattered around the club. He’s been sitting next to Geonhak for the whole time, pretending to be drinking while he’s sharply watching over the whole place, keeping an eye for any suspicious activity or individuals. 

Refusing to answer, Geonhak downs another bitter drink, grimacing at the taste afterwards. Seoho shakes his head, looking rather amused by his suffering. The agent then turns his attention back to their surroundings, smirk still on, but stance ready to attack at any second. 

That insufferable guy has made the previous weeks harder than they already were. Meeting him once in a while was stressful enough, having him following them like their shadows was the real torture. And now he has the audacity to mock him!

Geonhak is completely oblivious to the real reason behind the overwhelming anger that takes over him. All that he’s aware of is that he’s suddenly in the middle of the dancing floor, pulling Youngjo away from the girl. He wants to regret his rash actions, he really does, but finally separating the two of them brings him too much satisfaction to allow any chance for regret. 

The sense of fulfillment is short lived, as Geonhak eventually realizes that he has no rational explanation for his behavior. The girl is currently glaring at him in annoyance, while Youngjo raises an eyebrow in question. 

“I- I-” before he can conjure some excuse, Youngjo drags him by the arm, leading him all the way to the bathroom, where the music is muffled by the doors, and they can hear each other clearly.

“What is wrong with you?” Youngjo demands, furiously, as soon as he lets go of him. 

Mind too fogged by the alcohol and the after-effect of the adrenaline surge, all that Geonhak musters is an unintelligent, “What?” 

Youngjo rolls his eyes, sensing that the other is in no state to formulate a coherent answer. It doesn’t stop him from finishing what he has to say, and it’s a lot. 

“I told you to stop acting as my personal bodyguard or whatever,” His face is flushed, but the frustration is evidently there, “Not everyone’s a threat for my life. So for once, let me enjoy my night!” He harshly demands. With one last glare, he leaves Geonhak all alone in that dirty bathroom. 

Youngjo has made his point clear, so for the rest of the night, Geonhak tries to mind is own business, and almost succeeds. It’s always that damned almost. 

His gaze does not follow Youngjo on every move he does, but it still checks on him every now and then, and that’s something he can’t control. The idiot is still dancing and drinking, looking like he’s having the best night of his life, with that same flirty girl in his arms. At some point, they get a bit too close for comfort. That’s when Geonhak tears his eyes away, searching for something else to focus on. 

He’s surprised to find Seoho’s sharp eyes fixated on him. The agent is using that analyzing, sly gaze on him, the one that gets under Geonhak’s skin and makes him feel bare, naked. Maybe that’s one of the main reasons he can’t stand the other. It probably didn’t take Seoho more than one day spent with him and Youngjo to figure Geonhak’s feelings for his best-friend. 

The worst part was that Seoho has never said anything about it, but his smirks and smug behavior around Geonhak were more than enough to drive him crazy. It felt like he was constantly blackmailing him. Even in these past few weeks, he made sure to further add to Geonhak’s misery, all done so silently and so subtly. Today, however, he seems to break out of his silence. 

“Are you aware that one word from you -just one- and that spot will be yours for as long as you’ll allow it to be?” he bluntly says, never been for introductions. 

The intensity of such a question doesn’t allow any space for shock. Yes. Geonhak is well aware of that. He’s well aware that Youngjo is waiting for his response, has been for too many years to count. And one word. One word is all that it’ll take to claim that pure heart of his for an eternity. It all sounds so easy, painfully so, and yet…

“At what cost?” He questions back, gaze challenging. Seoho must be thinking he’s stupid and a coward for never taking that one step, but Geonhak doesn’t mind, because the other will never understand. 

“His and his family’s reputation?” 

Seoho scoffs, unconvinced, “You know that he doesn’t care about those kind of things.”

“But I do!” Geonhak snaps back, irritated, “You know exactly whom’s son he is. And I can’t do this to the man who took me in, and treated me like his own son. I’ll be ruining his family! Is that how I should repay his generosity?” He can’t believe he has to spell out such a painfully obvious truth to the agent, someone who’s well aware of the responsibilities and vulnerabilities that come hand-in-hand with high positions. Unfortunately, his explanation doesn’t work at knocking some sense into Seoho. 

“It’s not that you’ll go public, anyways. And I don’t think Mr. Kim would ever stand against Youngjo’s will.” His arguments sound too optimistic, stupidly so, and Geonhak wants to bang his head against the nearest wall -or Seoho’s, whichever works best. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, so that he can continue with this useless conversation. 

“We’ll keep it a secret, for how long? Is it worth that much risk? How long are we going to be together, anyways?”

Seoho has the audacity to roll his eyes at him, before saying, “Love is all about taking risks. And why worry about the future? You have a lifetime for that. Why not try to be happy with the person you love in this moment.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing, thank you very much.”

“Are you, though? Because neither of you look happy to me, and you know I’m right.”

His words hit close to home, and Geonhak can’t deny that, can’t fight back. Seoho’s pitying gaze is too much to handle, as it further emphasizes the magnitude of his current situation. He averts his eyes back to the dance floor, automatically searching for Youngjo. He scans the whole dance floor, without being able to find him.

“Where did he go?” He asks Seoho, alerting him, and suddenly they’re both on their feet. 

They separate into opposite direction to search for him, while Seoho frantically contacts the other three agents. Geonhak runs around the club like a crazed man, panic eating him alive. He knows he’s just promised himself that he’d give Youngjo the freedom he wants, but to hell goes that promise! 

It’s when he strides up the stairs to the second floor of the club, that he finds the other, and how he wishes he didn’t. Of course he’s relieved that Youngjo is safe and sound, but seeing him making out with the girl from earlier, is not exactly a pleasant view. 

In such situation, the best reaction would be to turn away and leave, to give them some privacy -as if they’re not already kissing in the open. Instead of doing that, Geonhak’s body freezes, his feet glued to that spot and eyes fixed on the sight in front of him. Youngjo has one hand on the girl’s waist, while the other is gently caressing her cheek. Their lips are dancing together, connecting and separating, over and over again. 

And an ugly feeling spreads through Geonhak’s being, all at once, like a fast-moving poison. Maybe that’s the reason behind his temporary paralysis. 

Geonhak is no stranger to that feeling. It made him suffer one too many times during college. Now, it’s not that Youngjo was a player or anything. In fact, the time he wasn’t in lectures or in the library, he’d spend sleeping or doing volunteer work, depending on his energy levels. However, he was very popular back then, getting asked out all the time. So every once in a while, he’d accept a date from one of the many female students asking him out. 

Thankfully for Geonhak, almost none of those dates lead to a second one, for the lack of interest from both parties. Youngjo was never interested to begin with, and his dates were allegedly deceived by his looks, once they realize that his personality failed to meet their expectations -handsome guys were not allowed to be big softies and dorks, it seems. 

Even the two girlfriends in Youngjo’s very short relationships agenda broke up with him not a week into their relationship, for the same reason. As much as Geonhak wanted to slap some sense into them for being superficial, he was more than glad they’re out of Youngjo’s life. 

For the following years, Youngjo became too busy to even consider dating, and Geonhak almost forgot how consuming and ugly jealousy felt like, how envious he was of those girls just because they could be so open when expressing their interest and he couldn’t, and how insecurities would poison all of his thoughts, because Youngjo seemed to have a type for his dates, and that type was everything he wasn’t.

Even at this moment, he couldn’t help but compare himself to that girl. She’s significantly smaller and shorter than Youngjo, and her mini dress is doing a great job at accentuating her curves. On the other hand, Geonhak is taller than Youngjo -even if slightly-, bigger, buffer, merely a stack of hard muscles. Her hair is long and wavy, falling beautifully over her shoulders, while Geonhak’s is a bit too dry, and always kept short. 

He’s got the chance to see her face up-close earlier, and he has to admit that she’s pretty as well. Wide, caramel eyes, high-bridged nose, and a pair of hear-shaped, full red lips. How could he compete with that? Weirdly small eyes, small nose, and small lips, would’ve been cute, if not coupled with that body, and that strangely deep voice.

That could’ve been him with Youngjo, drinking and dancing, then kissing in a corner of the night club. It could’ve been him holding and being held by the man he’s loved for more than his memory could go, instead of some random hookup. 

However, it has never been him, because Geonhak was nothing like those girls, and would never be. 

The two break the kiss, as the girl’s lips trails down Youngjo’s neck. Youngjo automatically tilts his head to the side, and that’s when he notices Geonhak’s presence. 

For a few seconds, they stare into each others’ eyes in shock, Youngjo for finding Geonhak watching, and Geonhak for being caught. Then, Youngjo’s eyes turn sad, almost blaming and regretful. And then, like in slow motion, a tear slides down his flushed cheek.

The sight further breaks Geonhak’s already shattered heart, and makes him wish to disappear into thin air. Driven by sheer despair, he finally wills his feet to move away, out of the suffocating place. When he turns around, he finds Seoho standing just behind him. He must’ve witnessed the whole thing, as that despicable, pitying look is back on his face. 

“You make sure he goes home in one piece,” he orders him sternly, “I’m leaving.” 

Thankfully, Seoho refrains from saying anything sarcastic. “You too, try to make it home in one piece.” 

With a final exchange of understanding nods, Geonhak leaves the cramped club without looking back. The cold late night air does nothing to alleviate the heavy weight sitting on his chest, that’s preventing the air from reaching his lungs. He needs something stronger for that, it seems. Without thinking twice, he fetches himself a cab, his destination being on the very opposite side of the city. 

-

The beat-down training center is closed and dark. Thankfully, Geonhak is one of the very few people who happens to know the door’s passcode. The owner was so sick of him coming at all random, inconvenient times- sometimes in the dead of the night, sometimes in the very early morning-, so he gave him the door code. Geonhak doesn’t bother changing his clothes. He’s already got rid of the blazer and tie before the dinner, so he unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the side, walking right to the boxing area.

His bare fist connects with the punching bag for the first time, just as a frustrated groan breaks through his chest. One punch is nowhere close to enough, so he follows it with another, and then another, until he’s losing count and control. Sweat is already gathering on his forehead and his breath is getting shorter, but it’s impossible to stop his arms now as their movement increases in pace with every hit. 

If his personal trainer sees him right now, he’d definitely scold him. _‘Are you boxing, or just punching the face of your most despised enemy?’_ The man has commented on one of his very first training sessions. At the moment, though, Geonhak is venting, and he’s really imagining the face of his biggest enemy in the place of the punching bag. 

That enemy being himself. 

He, Kim Geonhak, has put himself in this shitty situation. He’s the reason why things are turning out the way they are. From the very start, he was the one who’s refused to acknowledge Youngjo’s feelings, despite being in love himself. He was the one to lose control one night, and give a way for his lust and greed. He was the one giving false hopes for Youngjo, only to ruthlessly reject his heart and feelings all together. 

Geonhak has let himself foolishly fall in love with the most untouchable person, only to break that person’s heart, as well as his own. 

Anger, frustration, hatred, and despair cannot begin to describe how he’s currently feeling. He’s taken every wrong decision possible, and now he’s making Youngjo suffer through the consequences alongside with him. And the worst part? he can do absolutely nothing to fix things now. The damage was already done, and it’s irreversible.

Youngjo’s words have engraved themselves on his heart with a branding iron. The images of his hurt expression and teary eyes haunting him in every awake second of his day, as well as his sleep. 

_‘I’d rather live with longing for the rest of my life, than with grief.’_

With body dripping with sweat, aching arms, and bleeding knuckles, Geonhak sends one last, enraged punch to the bag, an anguished cry ripping through his heart and lips. The chains holding the punching bag in place loosen because of the abuse, and it falls to the ground with a bang. 

Geonhak falls to his knees, barely catching his breath, throat dry and aching. With his whole body exhausted and aching, the pain in his heart feels more bearable, more livable. It makes Geonhak despise himself more.

  
  
  
  
  


**_“But he that dares not grasp the thorn. Should never crave the rose.”  
– Anne Bronte_ **

_-TBC-_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a filler chapter, so nothing much really happens. I did not proofread it, and I'm not 100% satisfied with it, but I hope it doesn't disappoint you. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you for giving my story a chance, and if you have any feedback, please don't refrain from commenting =D Please stay happy, safe, and healthy <3
> 
> ps: I have decided that the total number of chapters will be six, with weekly regular updates, so please be patient with me.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Oneus story, with my fav ship!!  
> This was supposed to be a one shot, but things got out of hand. I'm separating it into chapters to motivate myself to finish it. The total number of chapters may change as I go. 
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading, and I hope you like it =D comments are highly appreciated here, so don't be shy to tell me what you think about it ;)


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